


Jeans

by i_amtheoutlaw



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Hand Jobs, Jeep Sex, M/M, One Shot, sterek, stiles likes his jeans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-17
Updated: 2014-07-17
Packaged: 2018-02-09 04:47:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1969599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_amtheoutlaw/pseuds/i_amtheoutlaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Go over there,” Lydia nodded towards the jeep where Stiles had now retreated to weep inside, “and get those little britches off of him. And. Worship. Him . . . capisce?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jeans

**Author's Note:**

> Because people need sleep.

\--

It was just not Stiles’ day.

\--

Derek was confused.

\--

Lydia was over it all.

\--

Stiles liked to swim. He did. When he was young his mother used to call him a fish out of water, because he would stay in the pool until his skin pruned up. But. Well. Things changed. Sometimes people found more important things. Things that came before fun activities like swimming. 

Of course, he had no way to tell the pack—even Scott—about his new found priorities, because, well. Honestly, it just wasn’t their business. He did not need their input.

He’d save that for when lacrosse season came back around. If he even decided to try out.

But then the pack did drag Stiles on the long trip to the beach, and he awkwardly sat in the sand with his jeans still over his swimming trunks. The rest of the pack, minus Lydia, were all in the water. While Stiles and Lydia maintained a more safe distance thirty yards from the shoreline. Lydia was tanning, in her very not-awkward bikini. Stiles himself was playing with his phone while he was silently dreading the moment that one of his friends would catch on and ask him why he wasn’t getting in. He definitely wasn't up for the jeans coming off, and he most certainly wasn't up for explaining why they weren’t. 

"Hey Lyds? Why aren't you in the water?" Stiles eventually asked, once he realized he’d been staring at his phone for too long without actually doing anything. 

\--

"Because that's disgusting, Stiles," Lydia scoffed and flipped her hair. Derek would normally feel weird about creeping on his pack's conversations—he wasn't Peter after all—but he was concerned. He didn't understand why Stiles or Lydia wouldn't swim. Or why Scott picked the ocean if not everyone would have fun. 

It wasn't like Stiles to sit on the sidelines, it was almost unnerving.

\--

Lydia raised a brow and glanced at Stiles through her sunglasses. 

“Why aren’t you, Stiles?” She eventually smirked. 

Of course she knew why, it was obvious to her, but she would let him have that.

She supposed. 

\--

Stiles could feel himself blushing, but managed to answer, “I just don’t really feel like it.”

Lydia hummed.

Stiles sat with her for a few minutes in silence before he finally got up and walked over. He placed himself about ten feet from the water, he felt awkward as hell as he stood there with his sandy jeans clinging to his legs.

"Does anyone wanna . . . you know, play with the beach ball or something?" Stiles asked with his glare pointed towards the ocean. 

\--

"Yeah, come in!" Scott yelled, he was distracted by Isaac trying to dunk him, but Derek kept his eyes on Stiles. The kid flinched as soon as the words had left his best friend's mouth. How could Scott not see it? Smell it? Not know that Stiles was obviously uncomfortable? If Derek hadn't seen Stiles swim before, he would've thought that Stiles couldn't swim by how he was acting right then. But Derek had firsthand knowledge of just how well the kid could swim. 

"You can't play beach ball in the water, Scott," Derek found himself saying, then he added an eye roll for good measure. Derek made his way over to the beach and got out. He started to shake himself dry and Stiles snorted. 

Why did he try? Honestly. The kid still cracked dog jokes for crying out loud.

\--

Lydia’s eyes opened when she heard Derek getting out of the water, she narrowed them and watched as Derek walked over and picked up the beach ball then threw it at Stiles’ head.

Really, she couldn’t have asked for better entertainment.

She was confident that it would play out nicely. 

\--

Stiles wasn’t any good at beach ball, and was actually quite worse while wearing his jeans, but watching Derek run around after his wild spikes was almost worth the embarrassment. 

Okay, it was totally worth the embarrassment. 

\--

Derek was aware of Lydia calling out to Scott and Isaac, but he was too focused on the way Stiles looked as he bent over to pick up a stray ball to listen in properly. Stiles was completely unaware of how graceful he could look sometimes despite his general, well. Stilesness. Derek had a feeling Stiles would grow up nicely. 

But since when? Jesus, had Derek always thought that? Maybe. He wasn’t like, creepy or something, no. But sometimes he entertained the idea . . . just for a second. 

It felt different now, though. Derek had always had lingering thoughts about Stiles’ smooth pale skin. He’d never had the full on show, though, Stiles shirtless chest and back, bare and sun-warmed. 

And yeah, Derek had maybe noticed that Stiles didn’t have hair. Like, anywhere on his face. But he hadn’t realized that he was so damn smooth everywhere. 

What was even happening?

\--

Lydia watched Derek and Stiles dance around each other for a bit. Derek looked content to just stare at Stiles hungrily when the kid had his back turned. Stiles, however, was shameless in his attempts to make Derek fetch his balls. 

In his defense, Derek could be so amazingly dense sometimes. 

Eventually, she rolled her eyes, and fixed her hair a bit, then started waving the other boys over.

“Go over there and throw Stiles in the water,” She said.

“What,” Scott hissed, “No, why?”

Isaac just looked over to Stiles thoughtfully. Confused and maybe a bit aroused.

“Because he said he didn’t feel like getting in so he won’t have any fun unless you make him,” Lydia couldn’t help but smirk as she spoke. It was probably the dumbest excuse ever but she already knew that Scott would fall for it.

Alpha or not, he was still Scott, after all. 

True to form, Scott eyed her then started nodding slowly. 

“Right,” he said, “but Stiles loves his jeans, y’know, shouldn’t we at least wait for him to take them off?”

Were all werewolves dense? Did the bite make you dense? She was starting to think so.

“He’s not going to take them off,” she snapped, “now _go over there_ and _do it._ ”

\--

Derek suddenly paused and got a horrified look on his face then whipped around. Stiles barely had time to register Isaac running towards him with a grin on his face before a warm body was slamming into him, and strong arms had him wrapped up.

It was all a blur from there really. 

\--

Stiles was fine, they threw him in and he was perfectly fine.

That didn’t register until after he’d jumped into save Stiles, of course.

“Dude . . . _dude_ ,” Stiles said as he swatted at Derek’s face. “What the hell are you doing?”

Derek didn’t understand.

“I thought you . . .” Derek trailed of as he understood, but he didn’t find the sense to let go until Stiles wriggled around a bit. “Sorry, I figured you didn’t like swimming in the ocean or something,” Derek said, and for some reason his mouth just kept going, “I mean, I know you can swim, obviously, but you weren’t and then Lydia said it was gross and you—“

“You were listening to us?” Stiles said as he shot a glare at Derek. The wolf didn’t even have a chance to be horrified with himself because he’d just noticed the way Stiles’ eyelashes were in heavy, wet tuffs that sparkled a bit in the sun. 

“Sure,” Derek sighed. 

\--

Lydia watched over the antics with a smile in place. One just couldn’t find that caliber of entertainment anywhere those days. 

She didn’t need to hear to know that Derek was putting his foot in his mouth or that Stiles was glaring something fierce because of something that had nothing to do with Derek.

She sighed contently.

Who would have thought that they’d turn into each other when embarrassed?

Not even Lydia would’ve guessed that.

\--

Stiles was so pissed, what was he supposed to do? Wear wet pants everywhere? Get sand stuck all over him? Chafe? Ugh. His life. 

Stiles wanted to prod at Derek some more, the new endearing, super hero/hot life guard thing he had going on was interesting in itself. Let alone, the whole talking deal.

But Stiles really couldn’t stand there anymore. He was too pissed.

So, he splashed off and away. 

\--

Derek knew he shouldn’t but he really had too. 

He followed Stiles. 

He didn’t let Stiles know that, however, he just watched as Stiles stormed off to the jeep and start rummaging around in the back. 

Derek listened in as Stiles huffed out anger. He was hoping to figure out what had set Stiles off, but all he got were breathy bits of ‘stupid Scott with his stupid arms’ and ‘fucking werewolves.’

Stiles eventually sighed and banged his head against the car. He stayed quiet for a long time and Derek had to squint to see the look on his face. 

The kid looked wrecked, all anger was washed away, and replaced with something else. Stiles sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and let out a low whimper. He blinked a few times before a small tear rolled down his cheek.

Derek was so confused.

\-- “You’re an idiot,” Lydia declared and Derek jumped. She had sent Scott and Isaac off, back into the water, and followed behind Derek. It was a testament to the size of Derek’s little crush on Stiles that he hadn’t even noticed her standing there yet. 

Derek just glared at her.

“Look, I’m going to tell you this because Stiles is my best friend and for some reason he finds you endearing despite you being a clueless brute . . . are you listening?”

Derek nodded slowly, glare darting around, alert. 

“Go over there,” Lydia nodded towards the jeep where Stiles had retreated to weep inside, “and get those little britches off of him and. Worship. Him . . . capisce?” 

“I . . . capisce.”

Derek nodded jerkily and was off towards the jeep.

\--

Stiles jumped when he heard a knock on the window, he looked over and saw Derek glaring at him. 

Stiles wiped his eyes and glared right back. 

“You’re getting the seat all wet,” Derek said, the sound muffled from the glass.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure—“

“Open the door,” Derek cut him off and Stiles sighed.

“Look, Derek, just go away please,” Stiles stopped and sighed again, because yes. Derek had started to growl. And just great, he’d really done it now.

Stiles went to open the door, but as soon as the door was unlocked, Derek swung it open and swooped in. He grabbed Stiles up hoisted him close. Derek parted his thighs and forced his way in between Stiles’ legs. Though, Stiles was only resistant until he realized what was really going on.

Stiles thought he was about to get his throat ripped out until he felt Derek lick up his neck and nibble on his ear. 

“Ohmygod, Derek,” Stiles squeaked, his neck stretched back as Derek nuzzled into it. “Whatareyou—what are you doing?”

Derek didn’t answer, just broke away from Stiles’ neck as his hands found Stiles’ waistband. Stiles looked down just in time to see Derek as he popped off the button with his thumb claw and started tugging them down.

Stiles flailed and tried to grab at them but Derek growled and tugged harder. Then they were gone and Derek stared down at Stiles' bared calves like they were threatening him.

Then Derek grabbed one up and studied it a bit closer, he pushed the edge of Stiles’ trunks up as he ran his fingers lightly along the pale skin of Stiles’ thigh. Stiles had to bite back a moan.

\--

Derek was . . . well. God, he didn’t know what he’d been expecting, but Jesus. It wasn’t that.

Stiles shaved his legs. Stiles. Shaved. His. Legs. And was embarrassed about it. That was really the most shocking part about the whole thing. Derek didn’t know Stiles could be embarrassed about anything. Let alone something that made him look so fucking good. 

Derek had to get Stiles’ trunks off, but first he wrapped him up and moved him to the back seat. Derek threw him on the seat and climbed in after him. He turned briefly to shut the door, but was quickly back on Stiles, tugging at his trunks. 

Stiles didn’t try to stop him that time and so Derek let himself slide them all way off and watched as Stiles’ cock bobbed free, already hard. The trunks fell to the floor of the jeep as Derek adjusted Stiles’ hips so he could bend Stiles’ knees up and slide underneath them. The angle was terrible, and Derek’s ass was sticking up in the air, but he couldn’t bring himself to care as he rubbed his face against Stiles’ smooth thigh. He started at Stiles’ knee and ended somewhere in the middle of his thigh and did it again. Then again. Stiles was writhing as he bit back moans. 

Derek started kissing up and down his thigh. Then he stopped and switched to the other thigh, rubbing that one then kissing it too. Derek even let himself lick, and once he started, he couldn’t stop. He lapped at Stiles until his nose brought him closer and closer to Stiles’ crotch. Derek stopped licking and nuzzled into the v of Stiles’ legs, breathing in his scent. 

“Fuuuck,” Stiles moaned as he bucked up into Derek and his smooth thighs tight around Derek’s frame. 

Derek looked up at Stiles and saw that he was looking right back at Derek. He looked so perfect. With his hair in oddly dried tuffs, bare cheeks pink, not a thing to hide his deep flush.

Derek took in Stiles’ parted lips and had a sudden urge to kiss him. So he dragged his head up, and let his nose drag along Stiles’ skin until he reached Stiles’ hipbone. Derek briefly bit down, which caused Stiles’ to throw his head back and whine, but then Derek was moving on. He kissed his way up Stiles’ neck and chest, until he’d found his mouth.

\--

Derek kissed him. Right on the mouth. Was kissing him, kept kissing him.

Stiles’ brain was about five miles behind them.

He just couldn’t stop pushing himself up into Derek, or squeezing the wolf between his thighs. Derek was hot everywhere, and the small backseat had them pressed together at every angle. Stiles’ legs were bent up, but his feet and calves were pressed against Derek’s side. 

Suddenly, Derek was moving, he didn’t break his mouth away from Stiles’ mouth, but he started to push down his own trunks, and wriggled around until they slipped past his ass and slid down to his knees. 

Stiles smiled into the kiss as the hairs on Derek’s thighs started to rub against his feet. After a few seconds of the feeling Stiles’ started to preen and curled his toes as he broke their kiss. He and Derek both tried to look down in-between themselves at the same time and bumped heads. Stiles snorted and blinked his eyes open to find Derek smiling down at him. 

Before Stiles could comment, Derek was swooping back in and pressing another kiss to Stiles’ mouth, though, he broke that one off quickly, and replaced it with his fingers. Derek ran them lightly over Stiles’ bottom lip before he pushed them slightly in. Stiles swallowed them up greedily, flattening his tongue and hallowing his cheeks out. 

Derek watched him for a minute, but eventually took his hand back and brought it up to his own face. Stiles moaned as Derek licked a long, wet stripe up his palm and mixed their tastes together. 

Then Stiles nearly died, because Derek brought that same hand down and wrapped up Stiles’ cock. He stroked it a few times before he tilted his own hips forward and added his dick alongside it. 

Stiles felt his orgasm pooling low almost instantly. He couldn’t help it, the feel of Derek hard against him, and hot and heavy over him was too much. 

Derek dropped his head, and Stiles had a second to register how hard Derek was panting before Derek leaned down and rubbed his rough face all over Stiles’ neck and shoulder.

\--

Stiles came, and Derek was following right after him. He rode out both their orgasms, stroking them until Stiles was a mess underneath him, and slapped at Derek to stop. Derek did, but only because he’d rather fall on top of Stiles and rub every inch of his body against Stiles’ smooth, sweat-slickened skin. He did. And he kissed Stiles while he was at it. 

\--

Lydia smirked at them as they both walked back out onto the beach in trunks. 


End file.
